Prejudice
by hochmodel
Summary: Carlos learns that you can't outrun prejudice. Cecil protects him in his own way. Welcome to Night Vale


Living in Night Vale, while did have its problems, was a privilege for Carlos. Carlos could be himself; his queer, Latin self that was obsessed with science and probably- though never formally diagnosed- ADHD and autistic, among a slew of other things. He could never do anything like that, before. Everyone in Night Vale treated him well and he couldn't be happier, even if the science didn't make sense and even if he was dodging death every other week.

But Carlos, no matter how much of a relief it could be living in Night Vale, learned very quickly that you can never outrun prejudice. He always brushed it off like he's always had to, but the squicky feeling of never knowing if that glare from security was his imagination or not…If those words he heard whispered with eyes on him were directed at him or not…If the exasperated and annoyed looks he got when speaking in Spanish to himself were real or not…it never went away.

He and Cecil walked into a store with some state-of-the-art beakers and burners, smiling, holding hands tightly like high school lovers. He wanted to see if he could afford new science equipment in better quality. He looked them all over hungrily, his glasses gleaming in the light, a small tug at his bottom lip with his teeth. He looked in the mirror by the equipment and saw the security guard glare at him, arms crossed and eyes narrow. He quickly dialed it down.

He moved to another part of the store, trying to avoid the intense gaze. It didn't work. He saw the guard push off of the wall and walk around, trying not to make it obvious that he's following them but not trying hard enough. He settled himself a row behind them. Carlos, ever the scientist, purposely waited until Cecil was distracted by 'sciency things' before he broke away and moved a third time to look at some council-approved books in the back of the store. This time the guard waits a minute before he moved to follow Carlos, pretending to be interesting in a different book merely inches away from Carlos. Carlos felt his stomach sink but never looked at the guard. The guard, however, glowered at him.

Carlos wasn't the only one to notice. Cecil walked over, caught the look from the guard and asked Carlos too loudly for Carlos' comfort if he knew the guard and why there seemed to be so much animosity. The guard quickly looked back at his book.

"I don't know him," Carlos replied quietly. "Maybe he's afraid I'll be doing something illegal with them because I'm a scientist or maybe…"

He stopped, not wanting to finish that train of thought. He didn't want to say out loud what he's known all his life: he's always been the outsider. The suspicious one. The one that doesn't belong. Long before he moved to Night Vale, that's how he was treated. He's been stared at in stores before; followed a few times, regardless of the attire he had on. He's had people tell him to go back to his home country and when he told them he was a citizen of the U.S., they glared and stalked off. He's been yelled at for speaking Spanish in public. He's been told he's 'smart for his race'. He's been accused of being in a gang for simply walking around town with a fake tattoo that he got at a friend's birthday party.

He thought Night Vale would be different. Night Vale had many more races than just the human pigment variation ones. It had dragons and faceless old women and not-angels…why would anyone care about how dark someone's pigment is in a town like this?

But some things never go away, as he's come to find out.

"Or maybe what?" Cecil asked, concern dripping from his tone.

Carlos couldn't bring himself to look at Cecil. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt and walked out of the store a little more quickly than he would have preferred.

"Carlos? What's wrong?" Cecil asked him, keeping in step as much as he could.

"Nothing's wrong," Carlos said with a forced smile. "Just didn't like the way I was being glared at is all."

"I don't understand, though," Cecil said, wrapping a protective arm around Carlos' shoulders. "I've seen it happen a few times where someone is carefully watching you but I always thought it was because they thought you were cute or because they were curious about your work but were too shy to ask or…"

Carlos sighed and forced himself not to shake his head. Cecil could be so dense. It's not that Cecil didn't have his own stories of prejudice; Cecil is a queer Jew. They've both had insults hurled at them when going out on dates. He's seen people give Cecil a bit of a sideways glance when they discover his heritage and he makes sure to put an arm around Cecil's waist and glare twice as fiercely back, as if to say, 'Fight me. I dare you.' Cecil never says anything but will always give him a kiss that's a little deeper than usual, full of gratefulness and a little needy for some comfort. Carlos is happy to oblige.

But Cecil…he's just too sweet for his own good. It would never…it **could** never occur to him that someone may treat Carlos with less respect simply because he has a darker skin tone or his name is from another language. Cecil does not discriminate and, as a result, he believes others do not discriminate.

He's so, so wrong.

As he feels Cecil tense and finally looks up at him to see him glaring at the store, he thinks Cecil finally gets it. He's proven correct.

"Is it because you're Hispanic?" Cecil asked, venom dripping from his tongue and his tone so cold Carlos shivered.

"…We'll never know, Cecil. Only the guard knows what his motivation was for following me around."

Cecil pulls Carlos close to him, gives the store one more silent, hard glower, and for a moment Carlos is scared Cecil might storm in there and start causing trouble. Cecil is the protective type.

"It's not like I'm not used to it," Carlos added in a quiet voice. "It happens all the time. It has ever since I was little."

"That doesn't make it better." Cecil huffed and pulled Carlos along a little more roughly than he intended. "Well, they just lost some customers."

Carlos scoffed. "I checked the prices. They're out of my pay grade." Cecil didn't reply.

It was the next day when Jacqueline turned up the radio a little, smirking. "Your boyfriend's being passive-aggressive, again."

Carlos rolled his eyes and put the beaker down. "How many times do I have to apologize for forgetting about our date on Tuesday? I just got caught up in my work and-"

"-I don't know what happened at Beakers & Bliss, listeners, but Carlos was _followed around_ by a security guard. He was doing nothing wrong; he was just looking for some new lab equipment and a guard followed him around like he was a badly behaved dog," he heard Cecil say in an aggravated, dare he say, livid, tone.

Carlos' jaw dropped and his eyes widened. One part of him wasn't sure he wanted this experience blasted to the entire town. Carlos was a private person (so why is he dating one of the biggest celebrities and blabbermouths in Night Vale with access to a microphone? No one would ever know) and he wanted to keep this to himself. The other part of him thought it was sweet. Cecil was protecting him in his Cecil-y way.

"I must say that I do not approve of their security practices. I don't know why he followed Carlos around, listeners, but I have my suspicions, none of them good. So, when you go to that store, be sure you know you're a suspect before you even walk in the door."

Carlos shook his head and resumed working, a small smile on his face. He'd have to admonish Cecil later for making such a small event into a huge deal, one that could get him into a lot of trouble at the station.

But not before a little bit of grateful kissing.


End file.
